


to lose someone

by CherryJolicoeur



Series: L'amour en Quatrième Vitesse [1]
Category: Arthur (Cartoon)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Human, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, D.W. Read Appreciation, Hospitals, Human, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Hatred, Surgery, arthur's a major asshole here, d.w. basically but calmly loses her shit at arthur, heavy Arthur bashing here, i just...really don't like arthur, read family bashing, so if you like him it's pretty much not wise to interact, this shit was over 9 pages, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryJolicoeur/pseuds/CherryJolicoeur
Summary: kind of a vent fic???I wrote this since a couple of nights ago (like 3-4 give or take) and stopped around 1300 words (i think), i later rewrote this over at least a couple of times today and I'm still not entirely satisfied with the result of how it came out, probably because this is a new writing style for me, so have this uncoordinated/inconsistent piece of shit i did out of anger-on the sidelines i'm pretty much expecting this to be flamed to oblivion for BEING an uncoordinated/inconsistent piece of shit so fire awayfor the record, to clarify, Sofia, Savannah, May, Joseph, Angie, any of my fanmade Read children aren't in this story, not that they don't exist in this AU or anything. they'll still be prominent antagonists (excluding May) further down the line as i write more fics of this AU.for the whole surgery/scar thing, D.W. didn't have her c-section or something (don't freak out, I'm saying that because she and Steg are married in this AU for clarification, some upcoming stories in this series will have the two dating), she just had her appendix removed. she can tend to be pretty salty as fuck when she's sick so if there's hope for anyone who pissed her off there's hope for me and you
Relationships: Arthur Timothy Read & Dora Winifred "D.W." Read, Arthur Timothy Read/Francine Frensky, Not Really, not really since their relationship here is majorly toxic
Series: L'amour en Quatrième Vitesse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929769
Comments: 1





	to lose someone

“Are we _really_ doing this though?”

A particularly irritated sounding voice that belonged to a man was what broke the steady silence in the lobby of a hospital one late afternoon.

The brunette that sat next to him had turned to him at that; in her arms were a bouquet of flowers tightly tied with a silk light-coloured ribbon, and hidden in between the flowers sat a small written letter.

“Why not?” she questioned.

“I mean, I thought I was clear when I just told you before that I didn’t want to see D.W.,” he replied.

“Well for the most part, I don’t really think your complaining should stop us from being by her side.” Francine protested. “You two haven’t met in years and that surgery took almost everything out of her.”

“Then you could’ve gone to see her yourself.” Arthur countered. “It’s obviously no use in bringing me along to see her again.”

“Arthur, even then, that doesn’t matter.” Francine held a hand to silence any further objections. “D.W. needs someone close to her now.”

“She has a life of her own. She probably has friends who care about her. We have no reason to come over and coddle her especially if you feel like you need to.”

“Who’s _coddling?”_ Francine bristled. “I’m only doing this out of the kindness of my _heart_ Arthur. If it was Kate or your parents you wouldn’t say anything. The fact that I’m showing compassion should really _mean_ something to you.”

“Don’t get mad.” Arthur warned. “All I’m just saying that if you don’t really want to see her there’s no shame in leaving.”

“Arthur- _why_ are you _acting_ this way?”

“Why aren’t I? This is _D.W._ we’re talking about.”

“Arthur, I get that you don’t like her-I know and understand that a whole lot. But otherwise, blood-related or not D.W. is still your _sister_. You still have to be there by her side. She’s going through a tough time-and yet you want to be difficult by not even wanting to be there for her in her time of need?”

Sparks had immediately sizzled from the bespectacled man as even he felt his dislike for his half-sister rise to the surface.

“I’m not being difficult about anything!” Arthur threw his hands up in raw frustration. “Look, I tried to be patient about it, I tried to just follow you on trying to come to an understanding with her, but-“

“You _tried?_ ” Francine looked at her boyfriend; her face originally maintained an absolutely _slack-jawed_ expression that later died down with absolute fury at the situation by his words. “What do you mean you _tried?_ Arthur, every time I or someone else talks about D.W. for a single second you immediately start _screaming_ and _freaking out! What_ do you mean you tried to be patient? The second you see her face in pictures or hear someone mention her you always complain about her! You’re doing it right now, and you’re now starting to make a bunch of bullshit excuses about yourself like you really think I’m _that_ _stupid_ or something! How can you even say that?”

“Because it’s _D.W.!”_ Arthur shouted as if that would explain everything.

“So _what?_ She hasn’t done _anything_ to you to make you act the way you do now! What’s your damage towards her anyway?”

Arthur fell silent at that, slowly looking down.

“Francine…that’s not what I meant-“

“Let’s break up.”

Arthur paused, doing a double-take as he turned over to the brunette “What?”

“I’m saying that we need to break up.” her voice was quick and impulsive matching her decision, “Arthur, we really need space from each other right now. I’m just really sick of having to walk on eggshells all around you all the time whenever D.W. comes to mind. I’m sick and tired of hearing you complain about her and hearing you go on about how don’t like her and having to be the one to calm you down about it when no one else is there to do it for you. I’m sick and tired of you holding some vocal grudge against her. And I think I’m _most_ _definitely_ sick of you being the one who thinks only of yourself _all the time._

You know, I honestly thought from the start that you constantly acting the way you do was only for show. Now looking back at you, I guess I‘m not really not surprised why D.W. moved out and everyone started distancing away from you in the first place. In the meantime-it’s _over_.”

He saw Francine standing up as she began to leave. Before she made her way to the door, she gave him one last look.

“Arthur, D.W. isn’t the problem here. Right now it’s clearly you.”

And with that she was off.

Before he could even manage to protest for a second he watched silently as she just left him sitting there without a word.

With a slowly shaking head, Arthur gently yet slowly slumped into his seat, left to silently mull over what just happened, and how did things even manage to get so wrong from here.

He was just so… _angry_.

Why would Francine break up with him? What did he do wrong? All he ever did was only state his opinion.

Through seething, he later found himself staring at the bouquet of flowers Francine left behind sitting in her seat. Staring at the bouquet he remembered why she bought them over here; then at that, a sickening thought ran through his head as he remembered the catalyst of what happened earlier.

****_*This is all D.W.’s fault.*_ ** **

Feeling his blood boil at the mention of his half-sister, with a need to hold her responsible for the situation he resolved to visit her in Francine’s place.

So with grabbing the bouquet from Francine’s seat-he stood up from his chair and saddled to the hospital room.

* * *

The walk to the room was fairly short as it was and before Arthur knew it, he made great timing when he made it inside.

Looking around the predominately white room, atop the bedside table and nearest table that sat in the centre of the room sat get-well-soon cards and balloons of the same theme, flower bouquets, Della’s favourite sweets, gift baskets and various stuffed animals, most of them embroidered with hearts. There were many cards, envelopes and notes, various names written on them, wishing and praying for her to get better soon. Her adopted family, close friends, even former and longtime friends. The Tibble Twins pitched in to do so, probably because they started running after her like a lost puppy mainly stemming from her stunning looks. It seemed that after being informed of the situation Emily finally managed to drop her jealousy _~~for a little while~~_ and gotten off Della’s back in the form of paying her respects to her. Everyone-but more particularly a select group of the people she allowed to be in her life had sent her gifts.

In the bed lied the woman in question, and the surgery made her recent look serve as a severe contrast from her normally gorgeous appearance; her hourglass-like frame donned a baggy hospital gown where dozens of thin white sheets encircled her. Her incision from the surgery landed with pain from earlier. Her olive skin maintained an almost haunting pale from over-exhaustion where her jet-black hair nearly covered her makeup-less face, instead of generally being draped over her left eye. Francine was right.

Observing her from head to toe Arthur was now filled with so many questions he had to ask her-D.W. ****_why did you dye your hair-Mum and Dad will murder you, D.W. how did your appearance become this vampy,_**** every question he had one after another was just about everything related to the person she became now.

Needless to say she was definitely a far cry from the doe-eyed little girl he and everyone else saw years ago.

Della gently turned to the side, careful to watch her stitches as she looked at who stood at her door. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes guarded.

With no objection Arthur allowed himself inside, throwing the bouquet of flowers to the table.

“Francine dragged me here,” his eyes flickered bitterly behind his glasses as soon as he remembered what happened between them earlier.

Pulling her glance away from the bouquet, Della later rested her head back into her pillow, easing herself.

“I…figured I heard yelling from down the lobby then.” She sighed, easing herself.

“What _happened_ between us is none of your _business_ , D.W.” he backed up, irritably.

Looking at a glaring Arthur, Della just simply shrugged at his nerve, looking almost annoyed. Gently pushing her hair away from her face the curvaceous woman slowly looked away from him, moving her head further into her pillow as if she already didn’t.

Arthur narrowed over to the many bouquets of red roses sitting in vases of water that sat aside cards. He would’ve originally brushed them off as more of the same, only instead as soon he picked up a card to read it a bit further what was written inside was basically a mushy love letter.

After a while of reading through letters similar to the one he just read he slowly glanced over to Della.

“What’s with all the roses and love letters?” he asked.

“Those gifts over there-are all from my husband.” Her head slowly rose from the pillows as she gently proceeded to sit herself up. “He usually sends them through his PR team but he eventually drops by every day. He always asks what I ate, how I slept…he almost never leaves my side.”

Arthur looked as if he almost couldn’t take her words seriously, before observing the gifts.

“I really _still_ don’t believe how _Mr Multiverse_ actually _married_ _you_ of all people though…what, did he found you when you were screaming your head off at his concert tour or something like that?”

Past Della’s generally stoic expression, he incredulity in his sentence actually made her simmer-his voice screaming of _“what the actual hell did he see in you”_ as if he didn’t expect _anyone_ to fall in love with her to the point that they would actually go this forward with her.

“How we met was the farthest thing from that. I keep my private life _private_. Now _that’s_ beyond _your_ concern.” The tone in her quiet voice maintained noticeable ice to it, coinciding the almost steely glint in her drowsy eyes where it left Arthur silently cringing through every word.

Overlooking his excess fear Arthur’s eyes just narrowed, not wanting to face her.

“Whatever.”

Arthur chose to dig into the very root of the conversation as soon as he remembered exactly why he came.

“How did you become such a big deal anyway?” he asked.

Della looked up from observing the shiny crimson coat of her finely manicured nails-as she became wholly stupefied by Arthur’s tactlessness.

“My gods-have you been living under a _rock?_ ” she said. “Have you ever seen the movies I starred in? Any of my songs on the radio? You haven’t heard of my name anywhere but you say that you couldn’t believe Steg married me.”

Arthur snorts to himself. “Not that I really have the proper time to or anything. I mean, as far as it goes-you probably…did things with him just to get where you are today.”

With a disgusted scowl Della inwardly felt her blood rapidly boil at the near-silent remark-but however she chose to sound as rational as she wanted to be.

“Despite what you think or what the media’s been telling you-I didn’t have a one-night stand with Steg just to boost my career.” Della’s voice carried audible notes of disgust at his accusation. “I started to do what I did a little while later after we got married. I worked hard to get to the top. How we met isn’t related to that circumstance at all.”

“Right now, my job’s only why I always do so much. Why I spend my time acting and rehearsing as much I can. Why I always sing and model. I figured that I try as hard as I could-then everyone would really like me. That’s what I want. I spend my time doing so much for everyone, doing what they want to keep it going. Nowadays everyone always seems to paint and view me as some “smoking-hot Lauren Bacall" expy everyone wants their hands on-but then, at the end of the day I feel like no one ever cares about that how I feel when they overlook who I am behind the mask.

“Yet I find this hard to believe.” With crossed arms Arthur just rolled his eyes at her words. “Why say that no one cares about you? _Francine_ cares about you, that’s part of the reason she bought me over her in the first place.”

“I doubt that she really does though.” Della denied tiredly. “In the meantime she only wanted you to come because I assume that she’s just sick of the drama. She only just wants it to end.”

As his eyes blazed through his glasses Arthur however just unwisely dared to twist the knife further, centring himself before Della.

“It’s not my fault that you’re being so selfish, D.W.. You have a famous rock star for a husband and dozens of fans who kiss the ground you walk on. You have no reason to through a huge hissy fit because you aren’t getting enough attention. All you are is just an _annoying_ _spoilt bitch_ who wants her own way.”

Surprisingly, in an instant a pang of pure rage simmered at the pit of Della’s stomach, magnifying as it circulated throughout her body in the form her round face twisting in a scowl. Apparently trying to be genuine/reasonable in this conversation wasn’t exactly working in her favour the way she wanted.

“ _I’m selfish? Me?_ _I’m_ the one who’s throwing a _hissy fit?_ A question for you Arthur-have you _ever_ walked in _my_ shoes for a change? Have you spent your whole life being constantly controlled by everyone, starring in _shit_ _movies_ and playing roles and singing _stupid_ songs everyone in your entourage _knows_ you don’t like, feeling completely inferior compared to your husband and being considered as some _“pretty little trophy wife”_ and a “ _gold-digging whore”_ by almost _half_ the media and then just _having to relive memories_ of losing your _whole childhood by being treated like pure dirt by the people you’re forced to consider as a family?_ If you must know, I pretty much _died_ the _second_ every single one of you came close to _rip on me for things that had absolutely nothing to do with me._

And not only you just showed up to randomly call me out of my name because the opportunity was there-I also really like how you’re calling _me_ selfish when you can’t even bother to look at yourself in a mirror. When was there ever a time where you actually showed awareness for other people’s feelings? Because I’m sure that whenever the spotlight isn’t on you, that automatically gives you time to stomp your feet and start complaining-like some _stuck-up_ _entitled_ _asshole_. With you, it’s just always the Arthur show _24/7._ Has it ever really occurred to you that you aren’t the epitome of an _“innocent model child”_ you liked to be preached _as_ either?”

“ _I’m not an asshole!”_ Arthur suddenly goes red, glaring. ”I _care_ about the people in my life! At least I do and I don’t spend my life constantly pushing them away from me and shutting them out every chance I get! Nothing _you’ve_ ever done, D.W.!”

“But I think that we’ve both established that in terms and from what I’ve been seeing and hearing from other accounts-that you _are_. And, when you’re not doing that you _selfishly_ cling to your own self-image like you _think_ no one’s around to actually watch _you_. Because apparently, wanting to be the bigger person to those lower to you and putting yourself on a high pedestal is apparently what it’s all about to you.”

“I don’t have to take this from you!” Arthur continued to shout.

“I suggest you should.” Della interjects, mentally deciding to twist the knife in further, “I haven’t been closing in on your life ever since I left, but I really _do_ have _yet_ to see how you actually manage to really care for someone other than yourself. When was the last time you actually _ever_ did that? Mu- _Jane_ ,” she immediately corrected herself before continuing, “Excuse me- _Jane_ was sent to a hospital to be treated for an illness from what I’ve heard from Kate-and what did you do? Nothing. You see, I have _constantly_ touched _base_ with Kate back and forth, and she never said anything about you seeing her. Even when I asked her.”

A flash of fury immediately made its way to Arthur’s once paling face, Arthur trying to bring out words he hastily made to defend himself. “You don’t even _know_ that! I’m _not_ selfish, it’s you with the attitude problem!”

“Here you are accusing me of this _“oh D.W. you’re selfish”_ bullshit again. Right, right, keep putting yourself on a pedestal this way all you want Arthur-like you always _give and give and give_ to everyone around you just so you can try to make yourself and your bottom line look pretty.” she hissed. “Even if you really think the perfect opportunity is there don’t try to start lecturing me on your so-called “good morality” and “highroading” bullshit so you can try to level the playing field any way you can.”

At this point, Arthur was fed up with her words, “ _D.W.!”_ he snapped, growling at the caustic-looking ravenette. His fists were balled, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands where it threatened to draw blood. “Why can’t you just _fucking_ _shut up_ already? You have _no_ idea how _I_ control _my_ life! What, you think I always spend my life being a douche to people like that? I have no idea where you keep getting this from, but I tried _so_ _hard_ to be _nice! Nice, to ** **you!**** We all did!_ But you _always have to act like a-"_

“Shut up. _Shut. Your._ _Mouth.”_

Arthur’s shouting was cut short, the demand forcing him to follow suit as his ears were strained to Della’s raised voice which dripped with venom in every _single_ word,“After _everything_ you did, how _dare_ you say that you tried to be nice to me? How could you even save face for everyone else? That’s a _laugh_.That’s just _rich_ coming from _you_ Arthur. You say that you tried to-but when have you _ever_ given me the time of day? Because as far as I’m concerned, all my life you only know me for being annoying. You can’t even be bothered to even basically _sugarcoat_ the fact that your life would’ve been better off if I wasn’t born. You haven’t done a single thing to prove what you claimed to do for years-even when I had yet to see you do so-and when you do it it’s only out of obligation. Even then, you still treat me like you almost hate my guts. You still view me as an embarrassment whenever we’re around other people, even one time telling someone that I’m “just some girl you don’t even know”. I suggest that you should probably stop lying to yourself.”

At that, silence fell over the room. A good part of Arthur that originally wanted to jump out and _rage_ at Della to get her to take back everything she said about him throughout this conversation’s intentions had lessened considerably at that.

“So I guess you don’t have anything to say.” Looking at the now tense man in front of her, Della felt some petty satisfaction to see that he was finally getting a clue. “I thought that whatever I was going to say wouldn’t even begin to deflate your ego, I’m surprised it's actually working now.”

The look in Arthur’s eyes had confirmed that for her.

“Alright then. I suppose you’re speechless now.” Della's voice was grave, brimming with raw _rage_ now in a way that made Arthur’s stomach sink. “I don’t bluff-but to be fair I'm really _sick_ of being _pushed away to the back_ and _dragged to the front_ whenever someone needs another to needlessly take their anger out on, and later _thrown back_ when they suddenly remember just how _useless_ I am. I absolutely ****_fucking_**** ****_hate_ ****being everyone's little stress toy because they're convinced that I'm too much of an _annoying, whiny bitch_ to ever stick up for myself and the fact that I have to deal with their ****_fucking_**** _attitude_ when they do.” she was shouting now, almost in a way where everyone present nearby could hear her. “I _hate_ being _pushed_ _around_ by _everyone_ like it’s not a big deal for them, because everyone who does such thinks that they can easily overpower me with their bullshit the second I try to stand up for myself. Take it from me-in case you haven’t noticed I don’t have the vocation of a doormat anymore, and I’m not a person who wants to be trampled and stepped on.”

She just snorts to herself-her voice quiet as it sounded-yet still true to her visceral rage. "I'm _not_ begging on my knees for a medal, and not that I'm coming off as the oh-so _annoying little brat_ everyone thinks I am-but I have to say that I think I’m entitled to protest that it's definitely unfair to me how ungrateful-no, just straight-up _horrible_ you, Jane and David are. How you _could_ be every chance you get. They clearly loved and preferred you more than anyone and anything else. I was always in your shadow, and everyone made sure I didn’t move a single centimetre out of there for the sake of keeping the “perfect child" in the spotlight.

But anyways I guess I’m not mad or vindictive at all. The past did haunt me a lot me back then but I stopped caring about it. On the sidelines that makes me free to live with your hate Arthur. I always knew and understood that I'm nothing but the lowest of scum to you and everyone else in their eyes. I’m not allowing you to because I’m forgiving or submissive. It’s not because I since forgot the weight of what you all did. It’s not because I’m out of those woods now. It’s because right now, _I clearly stopped caring.”_

She wasn’t paying much attention when Arthur gave her an unreadable look as she eventually finished. However-little did the Arthur and Della know, from outside the hospital room-at least two nurses had heard the conversation going on from within.

The eerie, almost sepulchral silence that swarmed the room earlier had finally come to an end as soon as Arthur finally managed to speak up.

"I...” he started to speak. “I…I'm _sorry_ , D.W." the excuses he proceeded to make after that had sounded heavily pathetic-even to his ears as he just looked away, unsure of how to comprehend his words after that.

"I was such a _jerk_ -and I’m-I’m really not good with words-I’m…” he paused with a sigh, “-but my gods D.W.-I’m _so_ sorry."

“I really _am_ an asshole…some brother I am. I…I feel _awful_.”

Her ascetic face had expectantly failed to change at what she mentally considered was an afterthought apology.

“Why the sudden change?”

At that, Arthur slowly gave a crestfallen glance over to her, daring to protest further the way he did.

“D.W….I know what I did was wrong, but at the very least-please, just _take_ this _seriously_.” He proceeded to _plead_ , only to be interjected by the harsh snarl she sent his way.

 _“I am taking this seriously.”_ she admits, grimly. Stepping back as he tried to look at her, an overwhelming bundle of nerves constantly churned in Arthur’s stomach coinciding with his strained composure. The steely glint in the stone-faced Della’s eyes was at the very least-almost _horrifying_ to even _look at._

“I think you’re only starting to apologise because not only you’re desperate to save face and because you’re feeling sorry for yourself, but because you’ve been told off for what you did. By definition-I will _never_ forgive you for what you did to me.”

Cue yet another bout of long silence.

Della felt her hand reach over to her phone, eyes locked on the home screen as she glanced at a recent text in the message box.

****_Steg: On my way, dollface._ ** ** ****_💖😉_ ** **

Even though she felt a smile make its way to her face, setting down her phone somewhere on her side, she later looked up at Arthur keeping her previous expression. Looking at him, it seemed that repentance settled in his stomach like a weight as he sensed her looking at him.

“Steg's arriving in a few minutes.” she announced. “You told me to leave you alone all the time when we younger-so don’t feel some kind of way when I ask you the same thing. _Please leave_ so my husband and I can be _alone.”_

There was a tick in Arthur’s jaw-showing either discomfort or guilt, or at the most a raw mix of both, which was almost hard for a now exhausted Della to determine. A dark cloud hung over the ravenette’s head as she carefully situated herself to lay down in a comfortable position, trying not to lance her stitches.

“D.W….” he tried to get at least a word out of her, tried to reach a hand forward to his half-sister, tried to do _something_ -but no reaction-she didn’t even bother to shoot so much as a single look back at him as soon as she tucked herself with the sheets. Not even when she felt her hand inch to her gently shaking head which was what made her exhaustion known.

“Feeling sorry for yourself because you’ve been called out for your own willful misdeeds isn’t a valid excuse for what you did, and it definitely isn’t considered an apology for anything.” Her cerulean eyes still blaze with obstinate fury. “I’m not telling you this again. _Please leave_ or I’ll call security.”

Della later finished, where she slowly assumed that she might’ve struck a chord.

Glancing at her turning away and slowly closing her eyes, Arthur had eventually taken it to mean that everything had been already said and done at this point.

Already dealing with enough overwhelming guilt, the visibly chastened man released a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he slowly saw his way out.

**Author's Note:**

> kind of a vent fic???  
> I wrote this since a couple of nights ago (like 3-4 give or take) and stopped around 1300 words (i think), i later rewrote this over at least a couple of times today and I'm still not entirely satisfied with the result of how it came out, probably because this is a new writing style for me, so have this uncoordinated/inconsistent piece of shit i did out of anger-on the sidelines i'm pretty much expecting this to be flamed to oblivion for BEING an uncoordinated/inconsistent piece of shit so fire away
> 
> for the record, to clarify, Sofia, Savannah, May, Joseph, Angie, any of my fanmade Read children aren't in this story, not that they don't exist in this AU or anything. they'll still be prominent antagonists (excluding May) further down the line as i write more fics of this AU.
> 
> for the whole surgery/scar thing, D.W. didn't have her c-section or something (don't freak out, I'm saying that because she and Steg are married in this AU for clarification, some upcoming stories in this series will have the two dating), she just had her appendix removed. she can tend to be pretty salty as fuck when she's sick so if there's hope for anyone who pissed her off there's hope for me and you


End file.
